Your Fight is Just Beginning
by Drachesoul
Summary: It has been a week since Lexa's death, and a new Commander is about to be chosen. With the tenuous peace between Skikru and the rest of the clans about to shatter, Clarke is left to pick up the pieces. Multiple character POV. Inspired by the Tumblr post from user riseforwanheda.
1. Episode 1

**So there was this post on Tumblr that really resonated with me, regarding how the next season should unfold, assuming this one ended with Lexa's death. I'm excited to see how this goes. Hopefully updates with every new episode of the 100.**

Lexa was worried. It's not like she hadn't been worried before, but ever since her death, she wondered how the Clans were doing. She had to stop this, she reasoned. Her fight was over. The lives and well-being of her people was no longer of her concern. Still…

She was familiar with the process of how a new Heda was chosen, and it shouldn't have taken this long. Scowling, she was reminded of just how few worthy candidates there were to take her place. She had left the Clans in a perilous spot. By not demanding blood for the slaughter of her people at the hands of Arkadia, she had halted a war between the Sky People and her own. Ugh, all this thinking made her head hurt.

Lexa thought about Aden, her favorite little Nightblood. He was the most worthy of the young ones to take up her mantle, and she would trust his judgement. But he was a boy still, and while she herself had become Commander at a young age, she knew deep down that Ontari was more than likely her successor. And she was furious. The Ice Queen would get her way after all.

She jolted herself out of her reverie and stood up to stretch and look at her surroundings. It was strange, getting to see what the world looked like before society had imploded. Tall buildings and narrow streets filtered out the sunlight around her, a fresh breeze ruffling her hair. Clarke would have loved it here, she thought, immediately regretting uttering the blonde's name.

Clarke was a whole other issue that she didn't feel like dwelling upon right now. They had finally reached an understanding that someday they could be something more, something beautiful, and it had all been taken away in an instant. But Lexa would settle for passing on a message to her through the new Heda. Should they ever get chosen…

There were people in this city around her, most she didn't recognize, but there were a few familiar faces. She had seen and talked with a few of the previous Commanders, and learned many things. It seemed as though that now she was dead, there were no secrets. Lexa knew what had led to Earth's destruction, and that her people were descended from the thirteenth Ark station. She snorted derisively. Ironic, wasn't it? Her people were the lost Thirteenth Station, and Clarke's people became the Thirteenth Clan.

In another world perhaps, we would have been together. Things would have been less complicated. She felt a tugging in her gut that reminded her of how she felt when they had first kissed. The phrase she had adhered to ever since Costia's murder, "Love is Weakness", served her perfectly well until she met Clarke. The blonde was an incredibly strong and beautiful leader, and Lexa couldn't help but feel something for her. Their stories were almost identical, young women who were forced to grow up long before they should have. Lexa almost lost herself in another sea of memories, but the gnawing in her gut was growing stronger.

This must be it, she thought, as she saw the city around her start to fade away into darkness. The new Commander has been chosen and I'm to meet with them. Lexa deduced that it had to have been someone who knew her when she was alive, otherwise she'd be seeing the other Commanders dissipating as well.

As the last of the skyscrapers fizzled away into nothingness, a single candle flickered into existence. More soon followed and soon she was in a throne room that resembled her own, the light of a thousand candles adding a warm glow to the space that made her heart sing. No, the new Commander definitely wasn't Ontari.

Lexa resisted the urge to walk up to the throne and take a seat, despite the years of instinct that said that was where she belonged. It wasn't hers any longer. Still, she stared longingly at the throne, until the sound of a heavy wooden door opening drew her gaze away. Her mouth dropped open as she saw the next Commander walk in.

"Clarke?"

XXX

Two Weeks Earlier

XXX

The first week after Lexa's death was nothing but a gray blur for Clarke. A massive funeral had been planned in only two days, and ambassadors from all twelve clans, as well as admirers from the general public had attended to say their final goodbyes to Lexa.

Octavia had been the one to convince her to attend, and even though she tried to refuse, she still found herself at the ceremony, holding the torch that would start the pyre blazing. She had to admit, she preferred the way the Grounders treated death to the way her people approached it. No one invaded her personal space to convey their condolences, there were no half-hearted hugs and tears shed. The Grounders saw death as merely a temporary barrier, and a reward to those who had died well, fighting for what they loved. Or who they loved.

No, the Grounders avoided her for the most part, respecting her space. She assumed she also looked a little like death herself, since Lexa died, she had hardly slept, and when she did drift off, she was soon plagued by terrible nightmares. It had gotten so bad on the third night, that she found herself walking to Lexa's old room and lying in her bed, trying to cling to the last remaining scents of the brunette. Titus had thankfully stayed silent for the most part, refusing to look Clarke in the eyes and letting her camp out in Lexa's room.

She was safe from him now thanks to Lexa, but she would have rather been on the Flamekeeper's bad side and have Lexa alive and in her arms. No one else save from those in the room when she passed knew the manner in which she was killed. Both she and Titus decided it was for the best. Clarke couldn't exactly proclaim that one of Lexa's most trusted advisors "accidentally" shot the Commander with a gun he shouldn't have had, nor could Titus falsely accuse her of being Lexa's downfall. The fragile peace that Lexa had barely managed to create would have collapsed in an instant.

So they settled for saying that an unknown assassin managed to sneak in and murder her, before he himself was murdered by Clarke. A nameless man who had died the day prior became the scapegoat, so to speak, and had been burned before Lexa had in a small ceremony. Needless to say, _Jus drein jus daun_ had returned to being a thing, and with the blood price paid, the process for choosing the next Commander began to take place.

Clarke knew little of the actual process aside from what she had gleaned from Lexa and Titus, but she wasn't excited by any means. The requirement that the new Heda had to be a Nightblood meant that either one of the young ones Clarke had seen training with Lexa, or the Ice Queen's puppet Ontari would take the throne. Honestly she didn't know which one scared her more.

Lexa had made it very clear that whoever was chosen to inherit the Commander's sprit would never harm Clarke. And indeed, every candidate, even Ontari had said that they wouldn't try to harm Wanheda. So while she was in no danger from the Grounders, the remaining Arkers were a rapidly growing issue.

While the tenuous truce between them had held thus far, she knew that the minute the new Commander took the throne that would cease to exist. And all she would try to do is argue for the lives of a few of them. Octavia. Raven. Lincoln. Abby. Kane. Monty. Miller. Harper. Perhaps Jasper and Bellamy if she was feeling lenient. But as far as she was concerned, everyone one else was irrelevant. It wasn't as if she didn't care about them, she rationalized, but the minute they voted for Pike as Chancellor was the minute they sealed their fates.

"Clarke, Titus wants to see you," Octavia whispered as the last few people began leaving the funeral, making Clarke jump. She almost let herself drown in her emotions again and she shook her head as it to get rid of an offending thought.

"I'm really tempted to tell him to fuck off right now," she growled, eyes still glued to the burnt pyre before her. She didn't want to leave Lexa until she absolutely had to. "What does he even want?"

Octavia shrugged, "I don't know, but it sounded important. Something about talking to you about the next Commander." Clarke's eyes flashed angrily at the phrase. There shouldn't have had to be a "Next Commander". Octavia felt the blonde's muscles tense and wisely took a step back, as if she were trying to placate a wild animal. "Look, I'm just the messenger. He'll be waiting for you in the throne room."

Clarke tried to rein in the sudden well of anger that threatened to burst, and turned to nod at her close friend. "I'm sorry O, there's just all this…"

"I understand Clarke, more than you'd think." Octavia hesitantly reached out and gave Clarke's shoulder a comforting squeeze. The blonde smiled weakly, and Octavia felt her heart break a little at the attempt.

Taking her leave, the young warrior headed out to train with Indra, leaving Clarke to herself. Making sure she was alone, Clarke allowed herself to break down. She'd done that a lot in the last week, anything that reminded her of Lexa causing her to start crying. But now that the ceremony was over, and Lexa's body nothing but ashes, she was forced to come to terms that she would never see her lover again.

Lover. That was the only appropriate term to describe Lexa now. They had almost been, and that word left a bitter taste in her mouth. Almost. They had almost kissed plenty of times, almost been together, almost had it all. It disgusted her that here she was, Wanheda, the Commander of Death, standing at the funeral of yet another person she loved.

She let her bottled-up emotions crash into her like a tidal wave for several more minutes before forcing herself to return to a state of cold, unflinching anger to meet with Lexa's killer. If he wanted to meet with the Commander of Death to discuss something, he'd get to. Because she had a plan, and she'd be damned if she let anything get in her way.

XXX

"This is insanity, Wanheda," Titus argued, the words bouncing off Clarke's armor as if they were as light as a feather. "You know the requirements."

Clarke simply glared at the Flamekeeper and snarled. "Does it look like I care about the requirements?"

Titus pinched the bridge of his nose and regretted his promise to Lexa. In retrospect, he should have refused to respect her last wish, because now it was coming back to bite him. What Clarke was asking for was not only irresponsible, but impossible as far as he knew.

His job as Flamekeeper granted him knowledge to things that ninety nine percent of the Grounders didn't know. That they were the children of the lost thirteenth station Polaris, that Polis itself was a tribute to their origins. That a new Commander wasn't "chosen by spirit", but by a chip. Some days he wished he never became what he was now.

And now this short, stubborn girl in front of him was demanding that he throw away everything he was taught to make an exception to the rules. "You aren't even blessed with the Nightblood, you'd probably die before the process is completed."

Clarke merely scoffed and Titus gets the feeling that he's fighting a losing battle. "If I die, you get your happy ending, Titus. Wanheda dead, free reign to exterminate the rest of Skikru. That's all you've wanted this entire time."

He wanted to argue that that's _not_ what he wanted. He wanted to keep Lexa safe, to keep his people safe. But that had flown out the window the moment he pulled the trigger and his Commander had been caught in the crossfire. And he was to clean up the mess. "The people would never accept you even if you did survive. You'd be breaking years of tradition."

"They'd never accept me? Titus, I'm Wanheda, the Commander of Death." Her eyes hardened. "I'll _make_ them accept me."

He exhaled deeply, rolling his eyes. He should have known that Clarke would be stubborn. Anyone involved with Lexa would need to be. She was obviously trying to guilt him into letting her participate, and he was honestly considering it. This entire thing was his fault. So he would surrender. It was the least he could do. "Fine."

Clarke looked taken aback that he had given in so quickly. She had expected him to last longer than this, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Fine? That's it?"

"What do you want me to say, Wanheda? I killed her. You loved her, but so did I. And I let my duties as Flamekeeper interfere. So if you are _truly_ set on trying to become the next Commander I won't stop you."

Utterly speechless, Clarke's bravado melted away, to be replaced with a raw sadness that even Titus couldn't bear to look at for long. Death was a common enough thing in Grounder society that he gave no second thoughts to it until it came for someone he knew. He caused the gaping wounds in this young girl's soul and he himself felt regret. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, you'd still have to contend with the Nightbloods. _If_ you succeed, and that's a big _if,_ it will be because of your strength, not my approval."

Clarke's walls shot up again and she returned his stare with an equally fiery one, one he had not seen since Lexa died. Titus knew this would go one of two ways, and he wasn't sure which one would be worse. Either way, he wouldn't want to be in Arkadia when she finally came around to exacting her revenge. Lexa's death had turned the woman in front of him into something scary. Lexa's death had turned Clarke into someone with nothing left to lose.

XXX

Pike sat at his desk, reading over the latest reconnaissance reports as the sun climbed higher in the window behind him. His men were making good progress at carving out sections of land to call their own, despite the opposition in their way. In fact, since the incident at the grounder village, he'd seen neither hide nor hair of any of them. Of course, if the rumors of the Commander's death were true, he'd all but won.

Making some notes that he would send to his lieutenants after lunch, he gathered them all together and shut them in one of his file cabinets before grabbing his coat to get some food. Pike preferred to grab his food and return here, not only because he could make more plans, but because there were still some people in Arkadia that hated his guts.

He shook it off, reminding himself that the hatred of a few was worth it, when his walkie buzzed. Pike hoped the grounder prisoners weren't acting up again, last time Lincoln had gotten angry and all but attacked two of his men that were sent down there to deliver their food.

"Pike here, what do you need?"

The voice on the other end took a minute before answering. "Sir, there are reports of movement on the perimeter."

Now that was strange. It was broad daylight, and the location of Arkadia itself made it a defensive bastion. Someone would have to be either suicidal or just plain stupid to attempt something. "Is it anything we should be worried about?"

Another short pause. "Unsure, sir. It's probably just an animal, but I'll take a small group out there just in case."

Pike scribbled down some notes and responded. "Ten-four, let me know what you find. And if it is an animal, you might as well kill it and bring it back. There's no reason we can't enjoy a little meat if it literally walks into our arms."

After confirming the scout's position and radioing Bellamy to join him, he left his office. Lunchtime was almost over, and Pike hoped there was at least something decent left for him.

He had long since memorized the maze of corridors that crisscrossed their way through the main halls of Arkadia, and since his landslide victory against Kane to become Chancellor, Pike had taken the opportunity to learn about every inch of land inside the walls. His people were happy for the most part, and while the unspoken threat of retaliation always hung over Arkadia like a storm cloud, few knew about it. He had sworn his inner circle of soldiers to secrecy, and as far as the general public knew, the local Grounders had packed up and left, and there had been no blood shed.

Pike tipped his head in greeting to Jaha as they passed each other outside the mess hall. Now there was a changed person. The collapse of the Ark had irrevocably changed the lives of everyone who had survived, but Pike was certain that the former Chancellor had just gone crazy. His constant proclaiming that the City of Light would fix everything grated on his nerves, but there was little he could do about it right now. The Grounders were the more immediate threat, and from what he was seeing, Jaha wasn't actually causing harm. Not that it didn't irritate him every time he saw someone else "convert" and swallow the strange pill they were given.

One of his soldiers had been kind enough to ask that a portion of food be set aside for him, and he picked it up from the cook with a smile. Pike asked who it was, and it didn't surprise him that the answer was Bellamy. He really liked that kid. He was a true leader who had led the 100 on their first fall to Earth and had stood beside Clarke, Abby and Kane when the fiasco with the Moutain Men occurred. Hell, Pike was impressed that he managed to infiltrate Mount Weather and pass information to Clarke.

Blake's sister on the other hand, was a real problem. To be honest, Pike thought the only thing keeping Bellamy from being totally faithful to him was Octavia. In a way, he respected how protective Bellamy was of Octavia, but she had shown her faith to lie with the grounders, and as such she would likely die. He would cross that bridge when it finally came time to assault the capital, but that day was still a long ways off.

His walkie buzzed again as he walked back to his office and he paused, midway through taking a bite in the corridor. Swallowing quickly, he answered. "Anything to report?"

Bellamy was the one that answered this time. "No sir, it did appear to be an animal, likely a rabbit, but we couldn't catch it before it escaped."

Pike sighed, slightly crestfallen. He would've loved some rabbit. "Shame. Maybe next time. Good work you two, I'll see you at the gathering tonight."

He turned the radio off as he approached the door to his office. He liked having an hour or so a day where he wasn't in charge of anything, and he looked forward to a peaceful lunch, but that was shattered when he closed the door behind him to see that someone was in his chair.

Pike's mouth went dry and he nearly dropped his plate when he saw Clarke Griffin in his chair, nonchalantly twirling a knife in her fingers. Oh shit.

XXX

Clarke admitted she got a rush of endorphins when she saw the look on Pike's face. A week ago she would have laughed out loud at the stupid expression he wore, but now she merely smiled wolfishly. "I don't suppose you're wondering how I got in here?"

Pike's mouth merely flopped open like a fish and she took a perverse kind of glee in his expression as he went for his gun only to realize that he didn't have it. "What the hell are you doing here, traitor?"

"Traitor? That's not a very nice thing to say to someone who worked so hard to grant peace between two peoples only to have an idiot like you ruin it all in the span of twelve hours."

Clarke could see that Pike was debating whether or not to run and call his guards, but she knew that they would be mysteriously occupied by an outburst in the prison. Octavia actually came up with that part of the plan and had enlisted Lincoln and Kane to organize it. They were alone, and she had the upper hand.

"You're even dressed like one of them, Clarke. I used to think highly of you." The look of disgust on his face marred what Clarke once thought of as a fatherly-looking expression. But the Fall of the Ark changed them all, and Azgeda turned the man in front of her into an unrecognizable threat.

"Look Pike, I'm just here with a warning, then I'll be out of your hair." Or your lack of hair, she bit back the insult with another false smile. "The rumors you heard were true."

Pike blinked, his body language suggesting that he didn't believe a word Clarke said. Not like she cared, he could believe whatever he wanted. "She's dead?"

Clarke shrugged and ran a finger gently over the sharp edge of Lexa's old blade, now hers. "I'm here to say that a storm's coming, and it's coming for Arkadia. For you. Lexa was willing to try and look past the horrible crime you committed in the name of peace, but I can all but guarantee the new Commander won't believe the same."

"Let's say for a minute that I believed you. Which I don't by the way, in case that wasn't clear."

Clarke almost retorted that the Grounders did indeed have guns, but when her mind flashed back to Lexa getting shot, she quickly extinguished it. "Believe what you will, _Chancellor,_ " she mocked, pointing the business end of the knife at Pike. "But if you don't fix this, Arkadia will fall just like the Ark did. And it won't be pretty."

Pike laughed, and for a brief moment Clarke saw the man she once knew, before it disappeared again. "They couldn't stop us even if they tried. We have weapons far beyond theirs. Lexa's death all but assures our victory."

She stood up suddenly, expression furious, and glided around the other side of the desk to stalk up to Pike, placing her knife at his throat and applying enough pressure to send a trickle of blood down his neck. "Don't. Say. Her. Name. You of all people don't deserve to say her name."

The Chancellor swallowed, the movement causing another rivulet of blood to drip down his neck and onto the collar of his shirt. Any sign of the Clarke he was talking to a second ago had gone, to be replaced with this…slightly demonic looking being. He knew without a doubt that if she wanted to, he'd be lying in a puddle of his own life-blood. So he settled for what he hoped was a threatening posture. "I say the word and a dozen of my guards will be in here."

"They'd have to run all the way from the prison then, since most, if not all of them are…tied up there at the moment."

He deflated. But Clarke wasn't here to kill him, not yet anyway. "Get out. And go back to your grounder buddies. If I ever see you around here again, I will detain and execute you."

Clarke backed off, her job done, wiping the blood on her blade on her pants. "If you won't listen, then you've just killed every single man, woman and child in Arkadia."

"You killed plenty at Mount Weather. We all do things we regret for our people."

Clarke scoffed, walking over to the window and slamming an elbow into the glass, shattering it in one hit. She used her knife to remove most of the remaining splinters of glass before swinging one leg over the sill. "These people followed you blindly. I wonder if they'll still be _your people_ when the truth of what you've done to get them this far comes out."

"It won't come from me," Pike said, slowly edging toward the door to make an escape. "And if the grounders know what's good for them, it won't come from you either."

"The Grounders say that three things cannot long be hidden, Pike. The sun, the moon and the truth. People will eventually find out. Lexa's gone, and with her, any hope of our peoples living in harmony."

With that final warning, she jumped out the window and scurried off, leaving Pike with his cold food and a pit in his stomach.

 **Original post credit and inspiration for this by tumblr user riseforwanheda. Also, Teen Wolf reference because I like the saying a lot. I'm super into this story and I hope some of you will be too. Until next time, Drachesoul out.**


	2. Episode 2

**From this episode on, this story diverges from canon, since it will be updated alongside the actual show. So screw the show canon, it blasted a hole in my ship so I'm patching it up the way I want to. Anyway, thanks for reading.**

"What is _she_ doing here?" Ontari hissed at Titus, looking as though she was all but ready to murder the blonde who was making her way into the circular Proving Arena. It was the ass-crack of morning and for a moment Clarke was tempted to rethink her entire plan. A morning person she was not. "She's no Nightblood, she bleeds red like normal people."

Titus took a deep breath to steady himself for what was bound to be a barrage of questions and complaints. And not a second later he was almost blown backwards by a dozen voices raising themselves to question his judgement. "Wanheda earned her title by slaughtering the Mountain Men and saving not only her people, but ours as well. Lexa was not one to question her spirit and her deeds, so I shall not either."

The Proving Arena in which they stood was a secret location, a wooded clearing an hours walk from Polis that was hidden from sight by the sheer waterfall that surrounded three sides of it, and a dense thicket on the fourth. To the general population of Polis and visiting Clans, this spot was a sacred ground meant only for Commanders, and carried a swift and brutal punishment should the rules be broken. It was also where potential successors would gather if the Commander died.

"Not like it matters," Ontari huffed, her feathers clearly ruffled. "I doubt she'd last through the first trial."

Clarke had stayed uncharacteristically silent, letting the insult slide over her head as if she hadn't heard it. She knew what she was here for, and Titus internally commended her on her approach to the whole thing. Neither she nor the rest of the recruits knew the true process that lay before them, the trials and tribulations they would have to endure to see if they were worthy of the title.

"Now, I imagine you are all familiar with the three Pillars of being Commander," Titus continued, taking a second to look at each novitiate. "They are?"

He was surprised when Clarke opened her mouth and recited in a monotone voice. "Wisdom. Compassion. Strength."

Titus was suddenly transported back to the day Lexa had been challenged by the Ice Queen in combat. Clarke had wanted to meet with her to try and talk her out of fighting, and had instead come face to face with Lexa teaching her novitiates. He recalled how, with wide eyes and a small smile, Clarke watched Lexa talk about the Pillars, and how important they were to being Commander. It was one of the few times he had seen her truly happy, seeing a side to Lexa that most people didn't have the privilege of seeing.

"Correct. A commander needs to have these three things in order to rule well. They need wisdom, both on and off the battlefield, to outsmart enemies and keep the peace between the clans. They need compassion, to be able to connect with and understand their people. And they need strength, to prove that they are strong enough to weather any storm."

He gestured behind him, where thirteen pillars of grey stone stood, each one with a single clan symbol carved into it. "Lexa united twelve previously splintered clans, and even added a thirteenth," He pointed to a pillar that looked as though it had just been placed, "The Skikru. She walked the path of a leader, and she died like one. As is tradition, a new Heda must be chosen. It is fitting, perhaps even if slightly ironic, that we have thirteen novitiates. Whosoever succeeds her as Commander will be doing so in a perilous time and will need to remember the Pillars."

Clarke seemed to be staring through him, as if she was hearing his words but not really paying attention, irritating Titus to no end. But he understood, he supposed. It had now been a week since Lexa's death, and from his observations, the blonde had hardly slept, and was only eating occasionally. She was not yet used to how the Clans treated death, and her mourning seemed almost alien to him.

"Each of you will be tested as many times as there are Pillars. Wisdom, Compassion, Strength." Titus approached each candidate and handed them a small token, carved with the sacred symbol. "There is a cave past the waterfall behind me where you will proceed to swallow this token and begin the trials. Are there any questions?"

No one said a word.

"This Conclave is now in session. May the Commander's spirit choose well."

XXX

Your Fight Is Just Beginning

XXX

"Again!" Indra barked, watching Octavia fight with another Second and scrutinizing her every movement. "You forgot to block his other attack, Octavia. What did you do wrong?"

Octavia lowered her practice weapon and met her mentor's gaze, ignoring the blood that was falling from her mouth as a result of her failed assault. "I didn't notice when he tensed the muscles in his right shoulder, signaling another incoming strike."

Indra grunted, satisfied with the response and waved her hand, telling them to continue sparring. As she took in the fight before her, she thought back to how much Octavia had improved since becoming her second. She took to Grounder culture like a duck to water, seamlessly integrating herself into their society and throwing herself into her duties as a Second. Octavia was evolving into a fierce warrior and Indra couldn't help but feel a little proud.

Indra shifted, feeling the bandages around her arm tighten. She should feel honored that she was still here today to train the young woman in front of her, but she kept flashing back to that horrible night. She spit on the ground, remembering how insult had been added to injury when Bellamy Blake spared _her_ of all people to deliver a message to Lexa regarding the Thirteenth Clan's secession. In fact, Indra couldn't believe that Octavia shared any blood with him, she was everything her brother wasn't.

"Better," she called out as Octavia managed to block her opponent's second swing that time and deliver a blow of her own to his ribs. "See how your body wants to instinctively re-adjust in order to keep itself out of harm's way?"

Poor Octavia, she didn't know what the future was to hold for her. Indra was one of the few people privy to the knowledge that Clarke had joined the Conclave in an attempt to succeed Lexa. The seasoned warrior suspected there was more to Wanheda's plan than to become the leader of the coalition, but she dared not air those suspicions out loud. So she did the next-best thing, she threw her Second into an intense training camp, knowing that if Clarke did manage to succeed her lover as Heda, Octavia would likely be her right-hand.

"Jhared, I need to talk to Octavia, you are free to go. But send over your brother so we can run one last drill." Octavia's opponent nodded, bowing his head in respect and sheathing his practice weapon before running off to fetch his older brother.

"Indra? What's up?"

"Walk with me for a moment, _Okteivia kom Skikru."_ Octavia immediately straightened at her mentor's use of her more formal name. "How is Clarke doing?"

The young woman shrugged, falling in line a step behind Indra. "She doesn't seem to sleep very well, and I've caught her more than once in Lexa's old room. Similarly she doesn't seem to be eating, and I haven't seen her out on the streets since the pyre."

Indra's eyebrows furrowed as she processed the information. "I ask because what I am about to tell you is of the utmost importance. And it needs to remain a secret. Clarke has successfully managed to join the Conclave."

Octavia let out a surprised huff. "No shit? I mean, really? She could succeed Lexa?"

All but rolling her eyes at her mentee's small blunder, Indra nodded. "And in the case that she succeeds at _that_ as well, you should be prepared."

As the answer dawned on Octavia her jaw dropped. "You're saying that if Clarke becomes Heda, she'd want _me_ as her right hand? Like you were for Lexa."

"Yes. And it is not a duty to take lightly, hence all the training."

A look of steely determination crossed Octavia's face and in that instant Indra knew that she had made the right choice in telling her. Octavia was fierce, stubborn and powerful, not unlike a wild stallion. She would make a good balance to Clarke's more restrained, think-first act later personality.

It made Indra a little prouder when Octavia said, "Then tell me what I need to work on."

XXX

Bellamy Blake tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for Raven to notice him over the small pile of work orders she had stacked precariously on her desk. He noticed that over the last several days her mood and general outlook on life had dramatically improved and wondered what Jaha had done to her.

He wasn't stupid, he noticed her hanging around the growing crew of converts, and how much she smiled now. It seemed the promises Jaha made were actually working, and it scared him. Arkadia did _not_ need another threat right now, especially since Clarke had literally barged into Pike's office to assault him.

Warning my ass, he thought, clearing his throat noticeably and calming down when he heard Raven sigh and put down her current project, a broken irrigation hose for one of the gardens outside. Clarke wasn't the kind of person to ignore all the risks and put herself in jeopardy for a measly warning. Or was she? He couldn't tell anymore, whatever bond they had once shared as co-captains of the 100 was gone.

"Can I help you, Blake?" Raven gently shoved the irrigation hose aside and pulled out a worn oil-stained notebook to take notes. "What did you break this time?"

He smiled at her not-so-subtle dig and pulled out his own notepad. "Pike wanted to commission some things for our next excursion outside the walls. Ever since we failed last time he wants to make sure we're prepared."

Raven nodded and scribbled down notes while Bellamy rattled off the rather long list of commissions. She whistled. "Bell, some of what he's asking for is…I don't know if I can do it."

"If its materials you need, Pike said not to worry, he'd get that sorted out."

The engineer shook her head, tearing off the list and standing up to tack it to one of the many workboards that lined her office. It didn't escape Bellamy that the movement no longer made her wince in pain. Whatever Jaha had done to her seemed to help with her leg, and while she still needed a brace to walk she was able to get a lot more work orders finished. "It's not about the materials, it's about me doing this. This shit's against any sane person's morals."

Bellamy sighed, not wanting to get in an argument with her right now. But he had seen what had happened last time, watched Monroe choke to death on the aerosolized poison the grounders had set as a trap. They were at war now, and there was no time to play peacekeeper. "I'm not gonna get into it with you, Raven. But last time we weren't prepared, Monroe died."

He could see the retort about to come out of her mouth, and held up his hands in surrender. She closed her mouth and waved him off. "Fine. I'll start working and get you a list of things I need by the end of the day."

"Thank you Raven."

"Don't thank me, if this blows up in your face, literally or figuratively, it's your fault. I was just—"

"Following orders, I know."

XXX

When Clarke opened her eyes she was no longer in the cave behind the waterfall, but in a very familiar building, the muted sounds of a bustling camp through the closed door making her heart thump happily. The war room in tonDC looked just like she remembered it, the main table covered in worn maps and metal figurines that represented the armies of the Twelve Clans. Her clothes had changed too, to those she used to wear when she was living in Arkadia. She gasped, _remembering_ when she had last worn this outfit, whirling around to look at the person standing behind her. "A missile? You're sure?"

"Lexa," she stuttered, not believing her eyes. She was somehow alive and it felt like the hole in her heart had suddenly been made whole again. _This is a vision,_ the rational part of her mind said. _One of your trials. She's gone._

"Yes, I'm sure, we have to evacuate now." The words sounded alien coming from Clarke's mouth, she didn't want to be talking about this, she wanted to be sweeping the Commander into her arms and kissing her for all she was worth. But her body wouldn't obey her and she understood that she was merely a witness to her own memories, powerless to do anything but relive them. She knew what would happen next.

"No."

"What do you mean no, Lexa?"

"If we evacuate, they'll know they have a spy inside our walls." Clarke remembered that she wanted to wring Lexa's neck when she first insisted they tell no one of the missile headed straight for tonDC.

She found herself saying that the mountain men wouldn't _exactly_ know they had a man on the inside, but Lexa had shut her down, saying it wasn't worth the risk.

 _A commander needs wisdom, both on the battlefield and off._ Lexa had made the calculated and difficult decision of a ruler to sacrifice her people in order to keep Bellamy safe.

A decision Clarke would not have made in that moment. She recalled Lexa once saying to her that she was driven to fix everything, and not everything could be fixed. She was naïve then, but perhaps that was because since she had landed on the ground, it had been about protecting the people she had come to love.

 _I wanted Lexa to warn her people in order to escape having more deaths on my conscience._ Too many people had died since she first stepped out of the space pod, too many names that she had since forgotten, people who had had dreams, lives. But sometimes death was inevitable. And being Commander meant that she would have to make those tough decisions, all for the sake of her people as a whole.

Lexa sacrificed those two-hundred and fifty some people to keep one safe. She took a calculated risk that having Bellamy as an inside man would pay off, and while present day Clarke knew that that had been the right decision, this past version of herself couldn't see past the fact that many people wouldn't be coming home to their families.

Clarke had tuned out of the rest of the conversation her vision-self was having with Lexa and instead focused on what it all meant. The First Pillar was Wisdom, and to her it meant not only having a honed mind, but knowing how to react to all manner of situations. To know when to attack, to retreat….or even when to betray.

Should she become Heda, she wouldn't just be responsible for the lives of thousands, she'd be responsible for knowing what to _do_ with those lives. Clarke began to understand why Lexa left her on Mount Weather. Some sacrifices are necessary.

The blonde turned back to see Lexa grab a traveling cloak and toss it to her as they bickered back and forth about what the right solution was. "It's time to go."

The vision of Lexa began to fade away and Clarke couldn't help but let out a whimper. She had control of her movements again and she made to grab the Commander's hand, but hers slipped through Lexa's as though she was a ghost. "No, don't go. Don't leave me again…"

 _Don't leave me again, don't leave me again, don't leave me…._

Clarke woke up with a strangled gasp, and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers as she levered herself into an upright position. The pounding in her head felt like she had gotten horribly drunk off Monty's Moonshine. Turning to her right to see past the falling water, she noticed the sun was beginning to set, sending beams of sunlight into the cave. It had just been a dream, but she felt as though she had learned something important.

There was a shuffling sound in one of the darker corners of the cave, and soon Ontari popped out of the shadows, looking drained but victorious. Soon several other bodies began to wake and Clarke knew the first trial must have ended.

"Ow, my head," Aden whined as he jolted awake next to Clarke, regretting the sudden movement. "That was…not pleasant."

"Tell me about it," Clarke offered him a sympathetic smile and he returned it shyly, seemingly still a little in awe that Wanheda herself was sitting next to him. "I wonder if—"

"Well done, novitiates," Titus called from the clearing, gesturing for them to join him. "Please. Return to the clearing so we may speak."

Slowly standing up so as not to send herself into a dizzy spell, Clarke carefully picked her way past a few of the still-slumbering novitiates and through the waterfall, the cold, fresh water hitting her face and giving her a jolt of awareness.

"You have passed the first trial, in which you were tested on the first of the three Pillars, Wisdom. There are bedrolls, water and food to my right, feel free to make use of them for you will be back at it tomorrow."

The five other Nightbloods standing with Clarke and Ontari nodded and made their way over to the makeshift camp to grab something to eat. Ontari soon followed, making a point to take one of the bedrolls and settle as far away from everyone as she could without losing the warmth of the fire that was beginning to burn. Clarke turned to Titus.

"So, what about the other recruits still in the cave? Should we save some food for them?"

Titus blinked and shook his head. "There is no point in saving anything for them, Wanheda. They failed the first Trial. They will not be waking up. Have a good evening."

He walked away, taking the winding trail back to Polis leaving a very stunned Clarke in his wake.


End file.
